Detention
by frogBISCUITS
Summary: A junior high fic involving T,G,B,P,U,M. All hell is going to break loose when the whole class is held in Detention!
1. Agent Son

* * *

DETENTION

CHAPTER 1

* * *

Goten struggled uselessly against his restraints. His foe, watching him  
all the while, laughed haughtily.

"It's no use, Mr. Son, you aren't going anywhere." The evil genius  
smirked as he stroked a pet rat in his grasp.

The thirteen-year-old boy, grunted in frustration. "You won't get away  
with this Mr. Fudo!"

"That's Dr. Juniku Fudo! I didn't attend five years of Evil Medical  
School to be called 'Mr.' by the likes of you." Dr. Juniku Fudo looked  
truly insulted. Turning fluidly to one of his evil henchmen, he  
continued, "Take Mr. Son here and place him in the path of a very  
dangerous and very elaborate killing machine, take 15 minutes to explain  
our plans for world domination and our plans to torture his love interest  
(which is in actuality impossible for an inferior henchman to have access  
to that kind of information), then kill him. I am not going to stick  
around for the actual death, I am just going to assume that Mr. Son is  
dead while I escape in a spiffy-looking and potential car-chase material  
transporter."

The henchman nodded his understanding and Dr. Juniku Fudo left the  
metallic laboratory, taking his rat and several other henchmen with him.  
"Do you really expect me to talk?" Goten called after the evil genius.

Dr. Juniku Fudo paused and turned very slowly back to Goten. "No Mr. Son,  
I expect you to die!" He laughed insanely as he left the lab. Goten could  
still hear his laughter at the over-used and extremely corny joke echoing  
down the corridor on the other side of the door.

"Come on, you!" The henchman urged Goten to his feet from his kneeling  
position on the floor and pulled him roughly towards another electronic  
door. The henchman punched in a code and the door 'whooshed' open. Goten  
looked up when he saw something dangling form the dark cavernous ceiling.

"Angelina!" Goten cried.

A big-breasted, scantily clad blond was bound and dangling precariously  
by a heavy chain above some sort of mincing machine. She looked  
absolutely terrified.

"Goten!" She cried. "I'm scared!"

The henchman dragged Goten up a set of stairs and tied him to a similar  
chain and setting him next to Angelina.

"What are you going to do to us?" Angelina whimpered as she watched the  
henchman walk over to what appeared to be a control panel for the mincing  
machine. Goten rolled his eyes. It was plainly obvious what the henchman  
was going to do to them.

"I'm going to push this big RED button, not this GREEN button, which  
would safely set you free, and lower you slowly to your painful and  
bloody death." The henchman did so and the chains which Goten and  
Angelina were bound to began to lower into the whirring gears and knife-  
like instruments, which would slice them to pieces in seconds.

"Oh God! I'm too beautiful to die! What will happen to my modelling  
contract? Oh!" Angelina wailed. Goten wasn't paying much attention, he  
was staring down her top.

Then Goten remembered something. "Angelina, do you still have that Extra-  
Strength Eye-Make-Up Remover™?" Goten asked urgently.

"Of course," Angelina said. "But you'll have to reach it yourself, you're  
not as badly tied-up as me."

"Okay, where is it?"

"Down my top." Angelina said simply. Goten smiled.

After a few seconds of awkwardly reaching down his love-interest's top,  
Goten removed the Extra-Strength Eye-Make-Up Remover™ applicator and  
applied it too his binds. Goten began swinging his chain towards the  
safety of a nearby platform as the chain dissolved around the make-up  
remover. Goten somersaulted through the air as the chain snapped and  
landed neatly on the platform. Straightening his suit, Goten quickly  
descended the stairs towards the henchman who was heading his way with an  
expression of pure hate on his face. Goten easily punched him in the jaw,  
receiving a sharp 'crack' sound as confirmation of it breaking. Kicking  
him soundly in the stomach, the henchman double over and Goten heaved him  
off of the staircase and into the whirring mincing machine.

The henchman's screams of agony echoed in the darkness of the large lab  
and then were replaced by the sounds of gurgling blood, as the henchman  
was decapitated. Goten smiled smugly. "It was a pleasure to 'meat' you."  
Goten smirked. "Look at you, you're a real 'mess' man! . . . You must be  
emotionally 'falling apart' . . . You need to learn to 'keep it together'  
. . . It's a 'knife' day isn't it? . . ."

"Goten!" Angelina cried. It was then that Goten realised that he love  
interest was drawing dangerously close to the whirring blades. He rushed  
down towards the control panel and pressed the large green button.  
Angelina ceased in her descent towards the mincer and the crane swung her  
out of harm's way to deposit her on safe ground. Goten rushed over and  
released her from her bonds.

"Quick! We must run for it!" Goten said urgently.

"Why?" Angelina asked.

"The Evil Lab always blows up in the end and a ball of fire will  
inevitably chase us down a hallway and we will only just make it by the  
skin of our teeth." Goten explained.

"Oh."

The two set of running through the labyrinth of labs and, just as Goten  
had predicted, a blast was heard in the distance, resulting in a ball of  
fire speeding their way as the two tried to escape through the long  
tunnel.

"Oh, my ankle!" Angelina cried as she fell helplessly to the floor.

"Get up! That fire ball is almost upon us!" Goten called.

"I'm too hurt," Angelina said dramatically, pressed the back of her hand  
to her forehead. Goten sighed, they didn't have time for this. He  
stooped, gathered her into his arms, turned and bolted for the daylight  
he could see at the end of the tunnel. As they reached the mouth of the  
passageway, Goten dropped onto the soft grass and covered Angelina's body  
with his own heroically as the flames roared above their heads. As  
predicted, they had made it by the skin of their teeth.

When all was safe, Goten sat up. "Are you hurt badly?" He asked the  
bruised and singed Angelina.

"Not really, but you know how it is with any heroine . . . I'll be  
beautiful and sparkling again in no time no matter what the injury is."

Goten stood and took in their exotic jungle-island surroundings. Looking  
to the sky, Goten could see a small jet-copter escaping over the ocean.  
He took out his capsule case and popped open one of the many capsules  
within. When the dust cleared, a futuristic motorbike with jet thrusters  
stood in the capsule's place. Goten straddled the bike and made to put  
his helmet on. "Angelina, I've got to stop Dr. Juniku Fudo and come close  
to killing myself in this upcoming elaborate and certainly very dangerous  
chase scene. There'll be time for explanations later, and hopefully some  
Hanky Panky. I'll be back."

Angelina came to his side and smiled. "Oh Goten, you're so brave and  
sexy."

Goten was busy staring at her barely covered breasts. "Oh, sorry, what  
did you say?"

"I said, 'Goten, would you wake up already!?'"

"Huh?"

"Mr. Son, I would be greatly appreciative if you caught up on your beauty-  
sleep on someone else's watch, I have a class to teach and your snoring  
is disrupting me." Mr. Juniku Fudo said angrily as he turned and marched  
back towards the front of the classroom. Goten blinked the drowsiness  
away and realised that all the other students in the class were staring  
at him and giggling.

Goten yawned, "But sir, I didn't get much sleep last night. I was busy .  
. . er . . . studying . . ." Actually, Goten and his best friend, Trunks,  
had stayed up most of the night playing Trunks' new Mortal Carnage III  
video game, but Goten wasn't about to admit that.

Mr. Juniku Fudo sat at his desk and frowned. "Be that as it may, Mr. Son,  
sleeping in my class is considered rude and disruptive. Please save it  
for your lunch period."

"Yes Mr. Fudo. Sorry Mr. Fudo," Goten grumbled and lent a cheek against  
his fist tiredly. Goten glanced at the clock, 9:23 am. It was going to be  
a long day.


	2. Roll Call

* * *

DETENTION 

CHAPTER 2

* * *

Mr. Juniku Fudo shuffled his papers in annoyance; That Son Goten was a little troublemaker. He continued the roll call where he had left off before being interrupted. 

"Trunks Briefs?"

"Sir?" Trunks began dishearteningly. "May I ask a question sir?"

"What is it Briefs?"

"May I leave the classroom?" Trunks asked a little embarrassedly.

Mr. Fudo sighed. "What is it this time Briefs? Last week you managed to leave the classroom on no less than five consecutive occasions and didn't return for an hour or two. On the first occasion, you claimed that you had a bout of Temporary Tourettes Syndrome. Then you left the room to go to the nurse's office with a case of Severe Pneumonia and later, an unfortunate case of Mexican Barking Disease. And then you took Wednesday and Thursday off because it was the Hamburglar's birthday. It couldn't have been on Wednesday AND Thursday! So which is it!?"

"But sir . . ."

"Briefs, what makes you think I'm going to let you skip class today?"

Trunks sighed; he was beat. There was no way he was going to get out of today's class. "Nothing, sir."

Mr. Fudo continued. "Sean Sen' Burger?"

"Sir." Came the response.

"Marron Chestnut?"

Silence.

"Marron Chestnut?"

Still nothing came. Mr. Fudo was staring right at Marron. He knew she was present today. She just wasn't paying any attention. He tried a little louder, "Marron Chestnut?"

Marron wasn't listening. She was talking really fast to Uub. "If I leant back in this chair, and like fell and stuff, would you like catch me and stuff?"

"Omigod! I would like SO save your life!" Uub responded as equally fast. "Do you wanna try right now?"

"Okay!"

Marron made to lean back. "No wait, I can't do it. I love you too much to challenge my trust for you and stuff."

"But we should practise!" Uub insisted, still talking really fast. "What if an alien spaceship had invaded earth and made all earthlings their mind slaves and all the news reporters rushed to the news stations to present the news that an alien spaceship had invaded earth and made all earthlings their mind slaves and it was broadcasted on TV so the teachers would have to wheel a TV and stuff into this classroom to show all the students the tragedy that had befallen our peaceful planet and you were so surprised that you fell off your chair and I wasn't trained well enough and prepared emotionally to catch you?"

Mr. Fudo was listening to their conversation, as were the rest of the class, and sighed. He hated it when they went on like this; there was no way to stop them.

"Oh, Uub, you're so smart and stuff." Marron cooed. "Let's practise in the event that an alien spaceship invades earth and makes all earthlings their mind slaves and stuff."

"Okay! You go first!"

"No, you go first!"

"No, you go first!"

"No, you go first!"

"No, you go first!"

"No, you go first!"

Uub paused. "No, your go first!"

"Lets go at the same time!" Marron suggested excitedly.

"Okay!" Uub agreed. And with that, the two simultaneously tipped themselves back on their chairs and hit the floor. They started rolling around in hysterics.

Mr. Fudo rubbed his temples in an attempt to calm down. He continued. "Izzie Crème?"

"Here."

"Sue Da?"

"Present."

"Fran Che Frys?"

"Sir."

"Mike Shake?"

"Banana!" Mike shouted. Everyone stared at him. He blushed. "Oh, I get the game now . . ."

"Goten Son?"

Goten snored peacefully from his desk at the back of the room.

"Pan Son?" Pan raised her hand and waved it for effect. "What is it now Son?"

"Sir, I must object to your method of addressing each of us purely by our last names as you demonstrated with Trunks earlier. I feel that our individual names are assigned especially and are unique to our inner nature. Ignoring our first names and calling us bluntly by our last name crushes our fragile young spirits and may lead to intense therapy in our later lives as we have lost our identity."

Bura Briefs looked up from filing her nails. "Son, what are you on about? You're always prattling on about some useless fact, what is it this time?"

Pan turned to her angrily. "I would thankyou to respect my opinions and call me by my FIRST name, Bura."

Bura immediately switched to the defence. "Fine. I'll call you by your real name, Douche Bag."

"Sir, how can you allow such brutal spirit-crushing bullying to continue in a public school system?" Pan implored to the teacher.

Mr. Fudo ignored her. Pan did this nearly every day. "Pete Zah?"

"Here, sir."

"Finally," Mr. Fudo sighed in relief as he put his roll call book away. "Lets get on with today's lesson . . ." Mr. Fudo stood and approached the black board, picking up a piece of chalk as he went. "Now class, please pull out your History Books."

There was a resounding groan (and a little snoring from Goten) as everyone reached into his or her desks and pulled out their textbooks.


	3. Crimson Wave

* * *

DETENTION

CHAPTER 3

* * *

"Now, Class," Mr. Fudo began. "Who can tell me the capitol of Australia? Trunks?"

Trunks held his hand as high in the air as he could stretch it. "Sir, I really need to use the bathroom."

Mr. Fudo stared at him. "Nice try Briefs. The moment I let you out that door, you'll bolt for the arcade or the ice cream parlour. No deal."

Trunks let his hand fall in defeat.

"Anyone else? Yes, Pete?" Mr. Fudo addressed a small boy.

"Sydney?" He asked meekly.

"Okay, not bad," Mr. Fudo said as though he were weighing the answer in his mind. "Now, lets try and get an answer from someone who's not a complete loser."

Bura stopped filing her nails and looked up. "Isn't Australia where that singing Von Trapp family came from?"

"No Miss Briefs, you're thinking of Austria." Mr. Fudo corrected.

"I thought that was Switzerland." piped up another student.

"You thought what was Switzerland?" Bura asked.

"There aren't any Swiss Alps in Australia," someone said.

"So where did the Von Trapp family come from then?" Bura asked in confusion.

Mr. Fudo growled, "It doesn't matter where they came from! They're just a bunch of annoying all-sing, all-dancing gremlins! WHAT IS THE CAPITOL OF AUSTRALIA!?"

Pan felt the need to set the class straight. "The capitol of Australia is Canberra. It is located in the Australian Capital Territory or the 'ACT' and is the federal capital of the Commonwealth of Australia. The ACT occupies part of southeastern Australia and is about 150 miles southwest of Sydney. Canberra lies astride the Molonglo River, which is a tributary of the Murrumbidgee River."

Everyone stared at Pan as though she were an encyclopaedia in the guise of a girl. Bura sneered. "Pan, you've been reading the dictionary haven't you? What did we say about doing that?" Bura patronized her as though she were a small child. Pan's face turned red in anger but she didn't pursue the argument, telling herself that she was above such behaviour.

Meanwhile, somewhere near the back of the classroom, Marron and Uub were staring into each other's eyes . . .

"If we could go any where in the world, where would you, like, take me and stuff?" Marron asked at a fast pace.

"I would like SO take you to Paris," Uub answered just as fast. "That is the most romantic place in the world and stuff and I could, like, profess my love for you on top of that Leaning Tower of Pizza they have there. And then we could, like, SO eat croissants in a café and talk about how much we love each other and stuff."

"Uub, you are SO romantic." Marron said, practically running her words together. "I love croissants SO much. Almost as much as I, like, love you and stuff. We should SO have croissants for lunch today."

"Omigod! I, like, brought some just for us!"

"Oh Uub, we SO think alike. What are you thinking about right now?"

"You tell me what you're thinking about first!"

"No, you go first!"

"No, you go first!"

"No, you go first!"

"No, you go first!"

"No, you go first!"

"No, you go first!"

Marron paused. "No, you go first!"

It continued like that for a while. Mr. Fudo rose his voice a little louder to compete with the noise they were making because there was no way he was going to get their attention and tell them to stop. "As I was saying . . ." He continued. "Which year did the Second World War begin in?"

Pan's hand shot into the air. Mr. Fudo sighed. "Does anyone else want to give it a try? Goten?" Pan looked disappointed yet continued to wave her hand for the teacher's attention.

Goten was still sleepy from his nap. He looked up groggily. "Um . . . er . . ." Goten dragged his response out for several minutes. Pan began to sweat.

"Oh, pick me!" Pan practically begged the teacher. "Let me show everyone how smart I am!!"

". . . um . . ."

"It was 1939 to 1945 you moron!" Pan shouted at Goten. Then sat back down slowly in her chair when she realised every pair of eyes in the class were on her.

"I would thank you not to yell at the more incompetent members of our class Miss Son," Mr. Fudo said quietly. "It wasn't Goten's fault that he couldn't answer the question. He doesn't know he's stupid. Briefs get back in your seat!" Mr. Fudo pointed at the lavender-haired boy who was almost halfway out the door without even looking at him. Trunks sighed and returned to his chair.

"Sir?" Bura raised her hand. "Miss Son is making it very difficult for me to learn about our world history, especially the World Wars which I take great interest in. I would like to lobby to have her removed from the class."

Pan looked down at her desk and blushed as several voices rose to agree with Bura. "Pipe down Miss Briefs, Pan isn't going anywhere." Mr. Fudo reprimanded. "Besides, I hardly think someone of your attendance record has any position to give an opinion about who is in her class. Don't you think it like the 'kettle calling the pot black' for some one who is hardly at class at all herself."

"Sir?" Bura asked.

Mr. Fudo approached his desk at the head of the room and produced the roll call book again. He looked up Bura's name. "According to last years records, Miss Briefs, your attendance is as bad as your brothers. You've missed forty six percent of my lessons."

Bura smiled as though all of this were just a misunderstanding. "Sir, half of those don't count. The main reason I was late to class is because I had my period." Bura supplied. Upon her answer, the whole class gave a resounding 'Ew!'

Bura shrugged. "So you can see sir, it's not my fault I couldn't get to class."

Mr. Fudo frowned; she had him there. "Well, having your period may cancel out a few of those tardies, but most of them still stand."

"Oh, sir? I was mostly tardy because of my period too." Another girl called out.

"Me too sir!"

"And me!"

"Yeah, put me down for one of those!"

"Okay, okay!" Mr. Fudo quietened the class. "All the girls are exempted from a week of tardies because of their menstrual cycles."

"Yay!" All they girls cried.

Goten, who was now wide-awake, gaped indignantly at all the females around him. He jumped out of his chair, letting it fall with a clatter to the ground, and said loudly, "That's not fair! If the girls get a whole week of tardiness for free because of their menstrual cycles, then so do us boys!"

Mr. Fudo massaged his temples. "Goten, boys don't have menstrual cycles."

Goten's angered face relaxed in thought. He retrieved his chair and sat back down. "Okay, okay." He reasoned. "So boys can't have periods. That's fine. But I think it's our constitutional and God-given RIGHT to have a period if we WANT one."

Mr. Fudo snapped. "WHAT'S THE POINT OF FIGHTING FOR THE RIGHT TO HAVE A PERIOD IF YOU CAN'T HAVE A PERIOD!!!???"

Goten looked back at him calmly. "The point is Mr. Fudo, I think that you are being discriminative to the male members of your class by not allowing them to have a week off for their menstrual cycles like the girls."

Mr. Fudo sat down at his desk and proceeded to bang his head against the surface in frustration. He really hated that little Son kid.

* * *

Thanks to Britannica CD-ROM 2000 


	4. Pop Quiz

DETENTION

CHAPTER 4

* * *

A few hours later, Mr. Juniku Fudo pulled out a stack of papers from his desk drawer and the class groaned in response, knowing what this would mean.

"Class, we are going to take a pop quiz," Mr. Fudo smiled evilly. Several kids made a break for the open window in an attempt to leap to their own deaths but Mr. Fudo ordered them back to their seats. "Now don't worry," Mr. Fudo assured them. "This is not counting towards your final grade, this is just to see how well you're doing." There was a resounding sight of relief. Mr. Fudo frowned. "Oh, what the hell . . . it WILL count towards your final grade." Some kids broke for the window again.

After handing out the test papers, Mr. Fudo returned to his desk and set a timer. "You have twenty minutes. Begin."

Trunks frowned at the paper in front of him. It was just a basic reading-writing comprehension test about a book the class had read that past summer. That was the problem; instead of reading the assigned novel during the holidays, Trunks had helped his mother in the lab to create a Multi-dimensional Time Device with leather interior. The closest thing Trunks had come to 'reading' was skimming through an instruction manual entitled: 'Physics of Parallel Universes and Multi-dimensional 'jumping' for Dummies'. Trunks sighed; he was just going to have to wing it.

After pausing momentarily to mentally gather what few scraps of information he knew with regards to the assigned novel, Trunks started scribbling down the answers at lightning speed. He thanked every God he could think of that he'd inherited his mother's smarts and his father's speed. Trunks started writing: 'THE ETHICS OF COUNTERFACTUAL RELATIVISM WITH REFERENCE TO DR. BERKELEY'S PHILOSOPHICAL THEORY OF EXISTENCE (WITHIN A SNOWFLAKE) IN DR. SEUSS' '_HOW THE GRINCH STOLE CHRISTMAS_': A STUDY OF COMMERCIALISM IN PUBLIC FESTIVITIES, INTER-SPECIE DESCRIMINATION AND REPRESENTATIVE REALISM.'

Goten stared at the paper in front of him. 'What's a Grinch?' He asked himself mentally. Like Trunks, Goten hadn't bothered with the set reading, so he got bored after a while and started staring out of the window. He doodled some images of himself beefed up with giant muscles in the margin of his exam, and then he put his head down on his desk and fell asleep.

Marron and Uub sat quietly at the back of the room, scribbling notes to one another and giggling insanely. After a few minutes of writing childish poetry to Marron, Uub handed over his exam to Marron for inspection when the teacher wasn't looking. Marron viewed his answers and blushed coyly. All the answers, no matter the question, read boldly: MARRON. Marron was flattered. Well . . . except for one question that asked 'What was the name of the huge, ugly, green, hairy and smelly character in this text?' . . .but the rest were flattering.

Marron handed her exam over as well when the teacher's back was turned and Uub surveyed her neat handwriting. 'Answer to question 1: UUB, . . .Answer to question 2: UUB, . . .Answer to question 3: UUB, . . .Answer to question 4: UUB, . . .Answer to question 5: GOTEN . . .no wait . . . UUB! . . .Answer to question 6: . . .' and so on.

Bura finished of the skull and cross bones she'd been chiselling into her desk surface half-heartedly. She had been halfway through the test when she had lost interest. She hated stupid kid stories where everything turned out 'hunky-dory' in the end and the characters rode off into the sunset, and Dr. Seuss embodied this whole concept. 'Dr. Seuss. . .' She seethed mentally. 'Corrupted by his own sense of 'goody-two-shoes'-ness . . . CAN NO AUTHOR GO UNDTAINTED!?'

THIS JOKE BROUGHT TO YOU BE THE REFRESHING TASTE OF ORANGE CRUSH™! IF YOU CAN FIND A BICARBONATED SUGAR DRINK WITH MORE NATURAL JUICE IN IT THAT OURS (0.01), BUY IT. Author poses for photo, teeth gleaming

Bura returned her attention to the exam paper and started drawing pictures Pan being hung, crushed with a cartoon mallet and then thrown into a pit of ravenous wolverines, being sure to write 'Pan is a dork' next to each image.

Pan wasn't having much better luck with her exam than anyone else. When faced with a question, she often found it quite insulting or challenging to her status as a female youth in the public school system. For every question so far, she'd had to reply with an answer similar to: 'I refuse to answer this question on the grounds that it conflicts with my religious beliefs.' Or 'I find this question discriminative to women everywhere and a sexist statement on our community. Thus, I refuse to answer it.'

After adding a few quotes, references and diagrams to his exam, Trunks wiped the sweat from his brow and wearily raised his hand. "Sir, I've finished the test. May I PLEASE leave now?"

Mr. Fudo glanced at his watch and then back at Trunks. Trunks had finished the written part of the test in ten minutes. How was that possible? Mr. Fudo could see the kid was turning pale in angst. He decided to stick to his guns, if he let Trunks go, he was only going to ditch school and go run-a-muck downtown.

"Briefs, if you have finished your exam, please sit quietly until the rest of the class has completed theirs."

"But sir . . ."

"Quiet!"

After another ten minutes of torture, the teacher ordered "Pens down" and the class groaned in distress and the impending failure they were likely to receive.

Pan's hand immediately shot up into the air as Mr. Fudo started collecting the exams.

"What is it now, Son?"

"Sir, I demand a re-examination. I found almost all of those questions insulting to my female status. Besides fact that Dr. Seuss' 'How the Grinch stole Christmas' is not on the prescribed reading list set out by the Board of Education, let alone being a suitable text for examination purposes."

Mr. Fudo stared at her in contempt. She was starting to tick him off. Luckily, the bell for recess rang just then and all the kids ran screaming for joy out of the room. Trunks trudging gratefully behind them all.

Pan however remained in her seat, staring at him expectantly.

"Your objection is duly noted, Miss Son. You may leave now." Mr. Fudo grated.

"But sir . . ."

"GO!"

Pan didn't need to be told twice and skidded out of the room. She made a mental note about questioning a teacher's authority when they're in a bad mood, then made a break for the playground.

Mr. Fudo sat at his desk and began marking the tests, all the while trying to piece together where he'd gone wrong in life or which god he'd upset to be punished with this job; glorified babysitter.


	5. Detention

DETENTION

CHAPTER 5

* * *

Uub hung by his knees from the monkey bar, staring at the sky. Marron sat nearby, sucking on a cherry lollypop. It was recess. Nearby, all the pre-teens were engaged in a Basketball game trying to take their minds off the depressing pop quiz they'd just endured. Uub turned to Marron...

"What do you suppose the sky is made out of?" He asked in a rush.

Marron didn't even remove her lollypop to reply. "It's, like, so obvious and stuff." Marron started speaking quickly. "The sky is made of water. Like the ocean. That's why people say that the ocean is blue, because it reflects the sky. And the sky is blue because it reflects the ocean. And that's why is rains too, because the sky is made out of water and stuff. Sometimes the water gets heavy, so it falls. And sometimes it gets heavy and, like, cold and stuff. So it falls as snow."

"But what about clouds and stuff? What are they?" Uub began at a fast pace. "Aren't they visible nephological bodies of very fine water droplets or ice particles suspended in the atmosphere at altitudes ranging up to several miles above sea level and stuff?"

Marron shook her blond locks. "No silly! They're fish! Schools and schools of large white fish swimming in the water that is the sky! Isn't it like cool and stuff?"

"And the sun? What's that and stuff?" Uub asked curiously.

"That's, like, a huge bright yellow starfish!"

"Wow Marron, you're, like, so smart and stuff!"

"I bet I'm not as smart as you!" Marron giggled.

"I bet you are!"

"I bet I'm not!"

"I bet you are!"

"I bet I'm not!"

"I bet you are!"

"I bet I'm not!"

Uub paused. "I bet you are!"

"You're so, like, nice to me and stuff, Uub! I think I love you!"

"Me too!" Uub cried excitedly as he jumped down from the monkey bars as the bell rand to signal the end of recess. He took her hand and led her back inside.

* * *

'It wasn't long enough!' Trunks thought as he plonked down in his seat after recess. 'I need more time!'

Mr. Fudo started handing back the tests as the kids came in from recess. Some kids burst into tears after one look at their result. One boy, Mike, was shaking and muttering, "Dad's gonna send me to Military School if I fail again. I can't go back there. Not again, not again. Everyone, leave me alone!"

"Are you alright?" Mr. Fudo asked as he approached, noticing that the boy was shaking violently.

Mike jumped onto his feet all of a sudden, knocking over his chair. "You can't make me! I won't go through with it again. I'm not out of order, YOU'RE out of order, the whole freaking SYSTEM'S OUT OF ORDER! You want the truth; you want the TRUTH? YOU CAN'T HANDLE THE TRUTH! Forget it dude! It's Chine Town! AHHHHH!!!" Mike screamed and ran out of the classroom screaming, clambering over desks and chairs.

"See ya, Mike!" Goten called after him calmly.

"Hey! Mike got to leave the room!" Trunks opposed weakly. Mr. Fudo ignored him.

Pan sat up straight as Mr. Fudo approached her and placed her test on the table. Even though most of her answers were substituted for explanations for why she could answer the question, she felt that the questions that she HAD answered would be the only ones that were considered towards her final grade. Picking up her paper, Pan's eyes skimmed over the front cover and found her mark. 23/100. For a straight-A student who usually scored in the high 90s, this came as a slight shock.

"WHAT THE #$!!!???" Pan screeched.

Every pair of eyes turned to her. "Problem, Miss Son?" Mr Fudo asked.

"I demand a retest!" Pan said suddenly and determinedly.

All was silent.

"That won't be happening Miss Son. Please have a seat." The teacher said in a low voice.

"I will NOT sit down! I demand that you withdraw this mark from my permanent record and retest this whole class!"

Other students started to agree with her. Some raised their voices to shout similar demands, some students just liked the idea of opposing a teacher and began chanting; "NO GRADES, NO BEEF! NO GRADES, NO BEEF!" The noise was building to a deafening roar, which the rest of the school was sure to hear.

"SHUT UP!" Mr. Fudo yelled, his face red. Silence ensued. Mr. Fudo's eyes scanned the room. He prowled up the rows of desks and then stood very still for a moment. The students eyed him curiously.

Mr. Fudo's hand shot into the air and slammed into the air vent above. Ripping the grate free, he reached his long arms into the square opening and extracted a shoe to everyone's curiosity. A leg and then a body followed the shoe as Mr. Fudo tugged it out of the vent. Trunks struggled uselessly in the teacher's grasp. Mr. Fudo set him on the floor.

"Back to your seat, Mr. Briefs and stop trying to escape!" Trunks did as he was told while Mr. Fudo returned to the front of the room.

Mr. Fudo turned on the class. "You all agree with Miss Son? You all want a retest?"

Nervously, almost all heads nodded in reply.

"Wonderful," Mr. Fudo smirked and each student immediately regretted his or her decision upon seeing that ugly sneer. "Well, then, you can all stay in detention at lunch for the retesting."

"Detention!?" Some kids cried in disbelief.

"Yes. For disrupting a classroom and opposing a teacher's ruling." Mr. Fudo clarified.

There was silence again. All heads turned to glare at Pan in contempt.

Pan giggled nervously. "Whoops."


	6. Bura's Regime

DETENTION

CHAPTER 6

* * *

A few hours later, Mr. Juniku Fudo's class was sitting quietly in detention during the retesting. Many were staring wistfully out of the window, listening to the distant sound of the kids playing in the schoolyard.

"Excuse me, Mr. Fudo?" A woman, perhaps a secretary from the school office, stuck her head through the open door to call on the teacher. She quickly strode forward and whispered something to Mr. Fudo. Bura, who was sitting pretty close in the front row, caught snatches of: "Mike . . . running-a-muck . . . naked . . ."

Mr. Fudo nodded his understanding a stood to follow the woman out of the room. His eyes quickly scanned the room and fell on Bura, who was watching him closely. "Bura, I'm leaving you in charge. I shouldn't be longer that five or ten minutes. Something has come up." He faced the rest of the class sternly. "No miss-behaving or leaving the room." (He said this part while staring directly at Trunks) "If I come back and Miss Briefs tells me you've disrespected her authority, those people will receive a whole year of detention." He nodded to Bura directly then followed the secretary out of the room.

It was quiet for a few moments. Everyone was watching Bura closely. A slow Vegeta-esque smirk appeared on Bura's face. Her chair scraped noisily across the floor as she stood and approached the teacher's desk. With all eyes on her, she took the teacher's throne-like seat and propped her feet up casually on the desk. Lacing her fingers behind her head, she eyed each of them. "Welcome to Hell," She stated.

She snapped her fingers and pointed at a boy in the front row. "You. Go get me a soda."

The boy frowned. "Just because you are in charge, doesn't mean we're your slaves!"

Bura frowned back. Twenty-eight seconds later the now black-eyed boy, Pete, was dangling upside-down from the coat rack, locked in the cloakroom. Bura was stronger than she looked.

Bura reclined in her new throne and pointed at another child. "You. Go finish my test for me," she ordered. She ordered another two kids to come fan her. They obeyed out of fear.

Pan sprang indignantly out of her seat at the sight of her fellow classmates. "You can't do that, Bura! Nothing gives you that right! Has participating in a free nation such as ours taught you nothing about the rights of man and anti-slavery laws?"

Bura icy gaze fell on Pan. In the blink of an eye, Bura was out of her seat and had Pan pinned to the floor with her arm twisted painfully behind her back. "Lets get one thing straight Son; I-am-thy-god. When I say 'jump', you say 'how high?' Got it?" Bura let Pan back up but remained towering above the girl. "One more outburst from you Son and it's the gas chamber for you."

Pan rubbed her sore arm. "Gas chamber?"

"You have to sit in the closet with that stinky Pete kid."

Pan recoiled at thought. Bura's attention turned to the rest of her classmates who were staring at her in shock. "Anyone else care to 'disrespect my authority'?" Bura asked, quoting the teacher.

Bura strode back to the front of the room. "Now, my first decree as your new overlord-ess and supreme queen," She began as she sat again in her throne. ". . . is that all the boys have to do twenty push-ups every ten minutes until I am completely satisfied."

"That's ludicrous!" Goten called out.

Bura snapped her fingers at another two kids and pointed at Goten. "Him. Gas chamber. Now." Fran and Sean, the kids who had been fanning her, stepped towards Goten.

Goten immediately freaked. "No, no! I'll be good!"

"Good boy." Bura smirked. "Now drop and give me twenty."

About ten minutes later, Bura had Pan and Trunks, the smart kids, completing her test for her while she sent Goten on a mission to recover Bura's permanent record from Mr. Fudo's filing cabinet in the adjoining office. Fran and Sean were still fanning her and the rest of the students had begun work on a statue of Bura constructed out of stationary items in honour of their new queen.

Goten returned with Bura's permanent record and while she was busy erasing bad grades and evaluations and replacing them with positive ones, Uub and Marron were busy chatting away at the construction sight of Bura's graven image at the back of the room.

"Marron, do you realise that this whole situation is another example of the crushing reality that faces everyday middle-classed folk? That the oppressive hold in the form of laws and governance the State and higher classes, for that matter, has over the lives of good hard-working people is an infringement on our rights as human beings? Don't you think it's important to maintain a sense of free will in every community?" Uub asked as he scaled the side of the large statue of Bura made out of paper, textbooks, desks and chairs, with pens for nails.

"Of course, that's like so important!" Marron continued stapling pretty pink tissue paper to the statue for decoration. She had established herself as the Chief Decoration Designer.

"In that case, don't you think we should build anarchist communities based on freedom from the State where peace and love rule? A community based on the teachings of Ghandi, Marx, Bakunine, Kropotkin or even Malatesta?"

"Oh Uub, you're so smart. Hold me!"

"Only if you hold me!"

"But I'm too scared!"

"Me too. Maybe we, like, shouldn't hold each other and stuff. Maybe it would privilege us over everyone else."

"Uub, that's so beautiful and stuff. Lets put off holding each other until we are both emotionally prepared." Marron giggled.

"Oh Marron, you're so mature."

"Uub, you are SO sweet!" Marron said and jumped into Uub's arms. Fellow construction worker's stared in confusion.

* * *

Trunks was beginning to feel a bit woozy. He HAD to get out of the classroom.

"Bura?" Trunks asked as he approached her. Bura was busy eating a bunch of grapes.

"I will excuse you from evading the use of my royal title this one time because you are kin. Now speak, lowly commoner." Bura said with a mouthful of grapes.

"I really, really, REALLY need to leave this room and, well, since you're my sister and all, I thought . . ." Trunks was interrupted.

"Trunks, its for your own good that I keep you here. You wouldn't last five minutes out there in the harsh reality of life. They'd chew you up and spit you out. Is that what you want? HUH?"

"But Bura. . ."

"I hear complaining but I don't hear push-ups." She said, returning to her grapes.

Trunks just didn't have the energy to complain. Trunks walked away, disappointed and pondering why he didn't object to his sister's actions and, being stronger, force her to stop all this madness. But the teacher's warning echoed in his ears, _'. . . If I come back and Miss Briefs tells me you've disrespected her authority, those people will receive a whole year of detention . . . detention . . . detention . . .'_

Any disrespect of Bura meant he would never get out of here.

' . . . detention . . . detention . . . detention . . .'

Trunks glanced around. "Goten, why are you saying that?"

Goten gazed back in confusion. "Why? Is the flashback over?"

"Never mind. Lets go do some push-ups."

* * *

Pan watched as Bura had another student dragged into the 'gas chamber' by her lackeys. Apparently, the child had 'looked at her funny'.

"YOU! Back to work!" another lackey ordered, using a jump rope as a whip and cracking it menacingly at Pan. After Pan had finished Bura's test, she had begun making papier-maché out of textbooks and trying to shape it into an up-lifted fist on Bura's image.

Goten, working beside her, began coughing and collapsed to the ground in exhaustion. Pan was at his side immediately. "Goten! Goten! Speak to me!" She was interrupted by another crack of the slave driver's whip.

"I said back to work!" The slave driver cried. Pan covered her head protectively with her hands.

"Goten, are you okay?" Pan whispered.

"There is something you should know . . .," Goten rasped in return. Before he passed out he forced, "There is . . . another . . . Skywalker . . ."

"Goten . . ." Pan wailed. Several heads had turned to witness their sad parting. Even the slave driver stayed their whip.

"Wait, wait," Goten came back for a moment. "I'm not done yet. There's one more tragic Star Wars death scene to do." He cleared his throat while Pan listened intently. "Pan, I lo . . . I love y . . ." He collapsed.

"No!" Pan cried.

The slave driver saw their opportunity and struck at Pan again. "Alright, he's gone now. Back to . . ."

Pan caught the tail of the whip right out of the air and tugged its owner forward, pulling them off their feet.

"Listen up everybody!" Pan called as she stepped over the fallen body and onto a chair so her voice could be heard. A crowd gathered around her. "We live in a free society. Rules and regulations are all fine and good, but the oppressive governance of the power hungry must not interfere with our free will. We must come together to build a utopian world of morality free from the tyranny of domination. How many more of us will have to end up dead like Goten here before . . ."

"Actually, I think I'm feeling a bit better." A small voice came from Goten's body.

Pan paused. "I mean, . . . How many more of us will have to be mortally wounded like Goten here before . . ."

"I think I'm okay." Goten said as he sat up. "I think I can start working again."

Pan glared at him. She quickly lashed out with the whip in her hand and struck him with the hard handle on the head, knocking him out.

"I mean, . . . How many more of us will have to be thought dead then discovered to be just mortally wounded and then have recovered enough to return to the workforce before suddenly being tragically struck down again before we will rise up and demand freedom?"

"Why should we trust you?" someone shouted. "You got us into trouble before!"

"Because, I will bring you out from under the yoke of Bura. I will free you from being slaves to her, and I will redeem you with an outstretched arm and with mighty acts of judgement. And I will bring you to the land I swore with uplifted hand to give to Goten, to Marron and to Trunks. I will give it to you as a possession. This is what I say to Bura; 'Let my people go!'."

A resounding cry of agreement went up and everyone gathered together to follow Pan to Bura's throne to confront the evil queen.

* * *

The Holy Bible, Exodus 5:1 and 6:6,8

I am not making fun of Christians, I happen to be one myself.


	7. Warzone

DETENTION

CHAPTER 7

* * *

"Oh great exulted one!" Goten cried, kneeling before Bura's mighty throne. "I bring you this token from afar! From the Administration Office of Filing, across the perilous school halls of Linoleum, past the Hall Monitor of Wedgies to bring you this. . ." Goten made a show of pulling a note from his pocket a presenting it to his queen.

Bura tore the note out of Goten's hands and hurriedly opened it.

She read aloud to herself, "'To Trunks' prinsiple/teecher/chaperoan/evil slave-driving ice queen, goten and trunks has permishon to leeve class today to attend Trunks' mother's funeral, sined: trunks' mom'"

Bura looked up at Goten and then Trunks who stood beside him. Goten was grinning like a moron, Trunks was red in the face and looked like he wanted to strangle Goten. "Dude, you screwed the note up! You said you could do it yourself!" Trunks whispered furiously.

"Not now Trunks," Goten whispered, eyes still transfixed on Bura. "I'm waiting for Bura's response."

Bura scrunched up the note and threw it back at Goten. It struck him between the eyes. Goten looked dejected.

"The ga-. . ." Bura was about to say 'gas chamber' but Goten threw himself at her feet once more.

"No! Please! Anything but that! I'll give you all my Transformers™ action figures! Anything but tha-. . ."

"Fine!" Bura shook him off. She despised wailing. "I hereby sentence you to 4582 push-ups."

Goten started crying and rubbing his already sore biceps.

"And you!" Bura turned to her brother. "How do you plead? Were you in on this too?"

Trunks' tired eyes darted around. "Uh. . ."

"If you were, you face an even worse fate!"

Trunks freaked. "Uh . . . NO! I was ABOUT to say . . . 'I bring this traitor before you', but he interrupted me. I am not affiliated with such scum. Check the security cameras! I know the law, you can't prove anything!"

"Alright, alright," Bura dismissed him. "Now, out of my. . ." Bura was interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps. She halted the kids fanning on either side of her with the flick of her wrist.

Pan's defiant profile appeared around an upturned desk, four other children en tow. Bura's bravado wavered for a moment when her gaze fell upon the sneer on Pan's face. That Son kid had always been trouble; she would have to be punished . . .

Bura leapt from her seat and shrieked indignantly, "What's this? MUTINY?"

"That's right! I sent Goten here to distract you while we rallied together!"

Bura's face reddened. "How dare you try to out-wit me!" She thundered.

"Actually, we were trying to distract _Goten_." Pan said quietly, fiddling with her fingers momentarily. "We told him to try and escape so he wouldn't screw up _our_ plans."

Bura and Pan stared at each other for a moment. "Well. . . what do you want?" Bura asked.

"Oh. . ." Pan looked up meekly then began her speech, emboldened. "We are here for liberation, we have come to overthrow you, you shall not harm us again! We have . . ."

"A rebellion, in other words." Bura tried to speed things up. Pan nodded. Bura sighed and resumed her seat. "Okay, okay. I was expected this after all. Sean!" Bura barked at one of the kids fanning her who stood to attention immediately. "Go fetch Pete from the gas chamber."

There was silence for a moment while Sean did so. Goten came to stand by Pan's side. "What's going on?" He asked as he rubbed a towel through his sweaty hair.

"You finished your push-ups already?" Pan asked.

"I'm not sure," Goten frowned. "I lost count. I think I got to about three."

Sean returned with Pete. "Good," Bura started. "If a battle is about to ensue, I'll need the perfect army. I'll swap you one Pete for one Goten." Bura said staring at Pan.

"No way!" Pan cried indignantly. "There is no way one Pete is worth a Goten!"

"Come one!" Bura whined. "They both stink at the moment! Besides you said it yourself that Goten's dull wits would drag your team down."

Pan grabbed Uub from the back of her herd. "How about this lovely Uub in exchange for your stinky old Pete."

"Ooh," Bura looked pained for a moment. "I don't think I'd part with an efficient stink bomb for a lovesick sissy. How about one lovesick sissy for a fanning boy." Bura gestured at Sean.

Pan considered then agreed. Sean threw down his fanning pole with a whoop and joined Pan's side. Uub looked lovingly into Marron's eyes. "Farewell my love. We shall meet again. . . parting is such sweet sorrow." He brushed his lips against her raised hand. Marron giggled and waved as he joined Bura's side.

Bura rose from her throne again, flanked by Trunks, Uub, Pete, Fran and Sue. "And now, trusty followers of your rightful queen," She addressed her army. "Attack the infidels!"

At once there was an all mighty bang and gunfire broke out between the two sides . . . well, not really gunfire. The two sides retreated to opposite sides of the class room – Bura's ranks on the throne's side and Pan's to the rear of the classroom – as they flung bits of paper, chalk and stationary items at one another with rubber bands. All that could be heard were the cries of pain, the sound of pellet like object colliding with desks and walls, blackboard erasers exploding in clouds of chalk dust, paper bombs descending with long sharp whistling sounds then exploding with left over lunch or rubbish. Spit wads struck the walls with a disgusting 'slap!' and did not move. Tables were quickly overturned a used as barriers or trenches. Soldiers from either side engaged in hand-to-hand combat using rulers as swords and textbooks as shields. The soldiers on Bura's side quickly deciphered that by joining a ruler with string they could make a bow from which to fire pencils and pens like arrows.

Bura retreated to the safety of the teacher's adjoining office. She barred the door and stood on a chair so she could peer out of the small window set in the door so she could survey the battle.

Trunks, though appearing quite tired, was Bura's designated second in command. "Too their left flank!" He cried. "They're weakening!"

On the other side of the classroom, Pan was dodging from desk to desk, acting as a field runner and giving orders to her individually positioned soldiers. "Marron! Hurry up a return fire! Stop drawing pictures!"

"I'm not." Marron replied calmly. "I'm, like, writing to my sweetheart back home." She proceeded to fold up the finished letter like a airplane and sent it soaring over to the opposing side. Marron sighed lovingly momentarily then raised up her sling-shot to aim at the soldiers on the other side of the room. "DIE YOU OPPRESSIVE SCUM!" Pan left Marron alone to continue her rampage.

As Pan darted between Marron's desk and the next trench, a pen soaring through the air struck her in the shoulder. She faltered then fell. She rubbed her aching arm then stood up indignantly. "That hurt, Pete!" She yelled at the opposing side. "I'll tell!"

"Sorry!" Pete said sheepishly from somewhere across the room.

Pan ducked into the hastily made trench where Goten had discovered that throwing those small plastic cups of paint was more fun than it looked. With every splatter of green, blue and red came an indignant, 'Hey! This is a new shirt!' or 'Awe, man! My Mom's going to kill me!'. "Goten!" Pan interrupted. "How are our defences looking?"

"Hard to say," He responded. "We don't seem to be advancing, yet we're holding strong . . . for now. We need a plan or we're not going to win this war."

Pan was surprised by his knowledge of the goings-on and his passion to act on it. "I've thought about that. We need to attack them at the heart. Those kids really don't want to hurt us, they're only acting on Bura's orders because they're scared of her," Pan commented as she hurled a pot of bright yellow at an unsuspecting soldier.

"So we need to cut off their source of fear and save them from slavery. But how?" Goten asked.

"I must go to her. Confront her." Pan said quietly, not meeting his eye. "By destroying her, I'll save her soldiers from her tyranny and win the war. She knows I'm coming; I feel she can sense my presence . . ."

"What?" Goten asked in awe. "Pan, you must run away! Far away! If Bura can feel your presence, then leave this place!"

"I know." Pan said. "I will go an face her in person."

Goten was quiet. "Fine. I will distract her army while you go to her." He paused then asked quietly, "But why must you confront her?" He sounded afraid as he lobbed a pot of lime green at a small child.

"It is my destiny," Pan said darkly and darted away, out of sight.

Goten nodded his approval. What had just transpired between the two marked something deeply ominous. Good and evil must cross swords and battle for the good of all. He only hoped that Pan would be returned to her followers soon. He sighed and started firing spitballs through a straw at the other side of the classroom whilst thinking of ways to cause a distraction.


End file.
